


Brothers in Arms

by scatteredpencils (tryingtostorytime)



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: F/M, also i have a thing for buddy cop movies, angara everywhere, gratuitous tempest cameos, this fic exists bc im so distressed at being unable to find my sibling anywhere post-game
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-29 20:45:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10861758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryingtostorytime/pseuds/scatteredpencils
Summary: (Spoilers until post-game!)Still recovering from his encounter with the Archon, Scott takes on a bit of a desk job in the fight against the kett. Which involves playing nice with both the Initiative and the angaran Resistance. And making sure he doesn't cause a diplomatic incident for an entire month on Aya. And trying to get along with his sister's new boyfriend - a.k.a. his roommate and chaperone. And self-professed 'future brother-in-law'.Oh boy.





	1. An Impor-Tann-t Assignment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott gets a job.

“Scott, someone is contacting the main terminal,” a voice quipped in his head.

The younger Ryder sibling yelped and dropped his datapad, the latter which proceeded to clatter onto the array of devices spread over the coffee table in their family quarters.

He blinked several times, remembered, and cleared his throat sheepishly.“Err - who is it, SAM?”

It had only been less than a week since the nurse visitations phased out and he’d stopped feeling the need for constant bedrest after the chaos of Meridian Landing. Adjusting to normal day-to-day operations, including talking to the omnipotent artificial intelligence his head, still took some getting used to.

Sensing his discomfort, the AI switched to earpiece, a connection via omni-tool. “Director Tann, the current overseer of the Nexus and the Pathfinder Operation.”

“Ah, Sara’s arch-nemesis.” Scott grinned and waved his omni-tool over the set-up to switch off the screens. Then the smirk faltered, uncertain. ”Calling here? The Tempest won't dock for another two hours. He should be contacting the ship.”

SAM paused a moment as if in thought. On purpose, Scott had learned; apparently the AI had gotten the impression of conversational cues over the last few months and was heroically trying to implement them for more natural dialogue with organics. Successes varied, but Scott appreciated the effort. (Although, he put his foot down when the AI tried peppering statements with ‘uh’s and ‘um’s - those were just plain creepy.)

“Perhaps he may be trying to contact _you_ , Scott,” SAM offered. “The Tempest sends location reports to the Nexus whenever it docks on a planet. He should be just as aware that you are the only one available at this time to have access to your family quarters.”

“Huh.” Frowning, Scott rose and approached the wall-spanning terminal at the end of the room. “What does he want with me? I’m not even part of the Pathfinder team.”

“Untrue,” SAM voiced instantly.

Scott smiled wryly. “Not an _active_ member, anyway. Can’t be, when you’re not out there _path-finding_. No, it’s fine, SAM,” he added, sitting down to input his access codes to the interface. “I’m just being a little bitter over my leave of absence getting extended."

“Your sister-”

“Wishes I was there. Or at least on the ship. I know,” Scott sighed.

But even Pathfinder’s wishes were useless against doctor recommendation. Under the dubbed _Carlyle-T’Perro Act_ he swore right after that Archon fiasco, he had another three weeks to spend planetside before being deemed recovered enough to actually participate in any adventure.

“Ugh.” He sighed, shook a fist in the air a little, and made a face before going for the ‘enter’ key. “Damn you Archon! And all that.”

“Scott-” SAM started, but silenced as the screen flickered to life, displaying the impatient grimace of a middle-aged salarian.

“Finally!” Director Tann grumbled. “Took you long enough, Ryder.”

“Hope you’re talking about me and not my sister, Director,” Scott pointed out.

“If I wanted the Pathfinder, I’d be calling the Tempest, clearly.”

Suddenly, Tann’s face blew up at the screen, squinting suspiciously. Reflexively Scott leaned back, trying to keep his expression level.

“Twins, I heard. Hm, I see the resemblance,” Tann decided, backing away to a more reasonable distance.

"Fraternal. We don’t look _that_ alike,” Scott argued.

He didn't know which was worse - if Sara looked like him, or the other way around. Childhood was the only time they had that mirror image thing going on - he was positive their appearances started diverging when they hit puberty. There was the height difference, the hair, and he even had a bit of a beard now, which Scott discovered he had started rubbing self-consciously.

“Will help make a positive impression, nevertheless.” Tann straightened, bringing out an omni-tool over his left arm. “Scott Ryder. I’ve a mission for you.”

“Nope. Sorry, no can do.”

Tann scowled, tapping away at the glowing interface.

Scott decided to lay off the attitude - now that he had a closer look, it occurred to him that the guy looked pretty tuckered out, at least as far as he knew of salarians. It wouldn’t do if he started making Sara’s job more difficult by antagonizing her boss in a bad mood. So he thought over his words, and did his best to channel his sister’s ability to fake professionalism in any given situation.

“No disrespect, sir. I meant to say that I’m under medical leave and have to remain groundside. Unless this is a mission that can be completed on Meridian, I’m afraid that I cannot be of much service.”

That seemed to do the trick, and Tann’s harsh expression lessened ever so slightly. “Well. This mission won’t be on Meridian. But perhaps it will satisfy your doctors to know it will keep you groundside on possibly the next best place in the galaxy to make a full recovery."

A smaller screen to his left flickered, and Scott found himself laying eyes on a lush garden planet, and a bright bustling city in center view.

“This is Aya, an angaran planet and the central headquarters of their Resistance operation,” Tann said. “And I want you, Ryder, to serve as a diplomatic representative of the Initiative, to coordinate our own strike team militia with theirs against the kett.”

Scott tore his eyes away from the picturesque view to gape at the salarian.

“What.”

Tann tilted his head - it appeared that he was well aware of how incredulous the statement sounded to the recipient. Thus began an obviously rehearsed speech:

“As allies to the angara, the Andromeda Initiative realizes it cannot stand idle while their Resistance tackles the deadly kett threat that affects all our races. Both governments agree that it would be most effective if we - the angara and Milky Way species - share information and, on occasion, coordinate joint military operations. _You,_ Ryder, will be essential in making all this happen.”

Scott stared some more - it was a good thing he was already sitting, else his knees would have collapsed. “You want _me_ to be in charge of sending people to war.”

Tann’s lips drew to a thin line. “Hopefully it will not come to that. No, for the most part you will simply be onsite delivering messages to and from the Initiative. You will provide context, clarification, and smooth over potential diplomatic incidents -  especially when Officer Kandros has vidcalls with Resistance higher-ups.”

The salarian continued, quickly, before Scott could snag chance to comment. “Physically, it is not an intensive job. Our militia arranges operations and sends the paperwork. You’re to make sure that none of it gets misinterpreted. The same shall work vice versa with their Resistance representative to the Nexus.

“ _However..._ ”

The hesitation filled Scott with a sense of foreboding.

“In _extreme situations_ , yes, you'll have the ability to authorize strike team operations and assemble joint missions yourself, bypassing red tape. _When deemed necessary,_ ” he emphasized. 

He blinked, large dark eyes staring gravely across the screen. “It’s an important role to fill, Ryder. We trust that you will operate in the best interests of both the Initiative and the Angaran people.”

That seemed to be the end of it, judging by the cease of hand gestures that he had gotten into in order to make his point, and fixed the younger Ryder with an expectant look.

Scott swallowed, throat dry. “Err… What if I refuse?”

The response was a grating belch of disapproval. “Then it will set us behind in our cooperative efforts with the angara. For some reason, Ryder, you were specifically nominated by the _Resistance_ to take on this starting role - anyone else will not be as easily welcomed, and would undoubtedly require _weeks_ of clearance. Ah - fear not-”

Tann raised a hand to prevent interjection (as if Scott could - his head was still spinning).

“If it is the long-term scope that concerns you, this job is temporary. Let them get used to actively working with an Initiative species, and they may realize that we might actually be capable allies in the same fight. Someone else can replace you once the angara get comfortable enough with the idea.”

“Why me?” Scott demanded. Damn, his voice was getting out weaker than he wanted it to be. “Director, I’m not… Surely there are people more qualified for this.”

“Well, yes, that’s what I said,” Tann remarked, almost pleased by the sensibility in that statement.

Scott winced.

“But their Moshae was very insistent. The angara are known to value family relations. My theory is that perhaps she sees potential in you due to your direct relation to the Pathfinder.”

An image flashed in his mind - seeing his sister on a datapad news report five minutes out of his coma, the moment he discovered _Sara Ryder_ was Pathfinder. A hero, they called her. The savior of the Initiative. 

Scott grit his teeth and lowered his eyes.

 _Nepotism_ , he thought bitterly. This was wrong - the role wasn’t something he _earned,_ he shouldn’t be the one handling these responsibilities. The first thing on his mind, the noble thing to do, he knew, was to refuse.

But instead, he continued to stare at the backlit keyboard panel before tight-fisted hands.

Deep down, he wanted the job. Meridian was a gorgeous planet, but he felt useless , unable to contribute with the scientists and not even able to participate in heavy lifting. With this job, he could be a soldier again. Help fight the bad guys, maybe put the tactical ideas from his Alliance days into good use. Heck, this could even be the stepping stone he needed to _prove_ his ability as part of the Pathfinder team.

The only problem was whether or not he deserved it.

But apparently, Tann had no time for ethical dilemmas.

“Well?” he demanded. “We need dictated confirmation, Ryder.”

Scott closed his eyes, decision made. “Very well, Director. I’ll do it.”

The Director tutted in approval and Scott heard a distinct ping in the air. “Check your terminal. It has your full mission parameters. There is a Resistance shuttle leaving for Aya in an hour and it’ll be practical for all of us if you’re on it.”

“Scott,” SAM suddenly voiced in the room’s speaker. “In lieu of such an assignment, you need to inform the Pathfinder.”

Tann scoffed, working Ryder's response into his omni-tool records. “Pah, my authorization overrides the Pathfinder! I will send a notice. Informing them personally is unnecessary.”

The picture of Ryder the human Pathfinder evaporated in Scott’s head. She was, first and foremost, his twin sister. The one who filled his inbox with messages when he had been comatose, who called at least once a day, and visited hugs-first whenever the Tempest landed on Meridian. All proof that Sara cared.

And would no doubt be devastated if he left without a proper goodbye.

Scott could handle rude, pushy salarians, sure. But if they brushed off his sister’s feelings? Well, that was the last straw.

“Yet it is respectful to do so, as I am a part of her team, Director. I insist you delay that flight, or at least reschedule for another one.”

Hearing Tann’s exclamation of indignation, Scott lifted his head, squaring his shoulders.

“Every single day the Pathfinder goes through mountains of _shit_ in this galaxy so that you cranky bastards on the Nexus can keep sitting pretty and live off her successes. Are you sure you want to make her day even worse by chucking off the only family she has left, _right before their plans to meet_?”

So much for professionalism. 

Tann, slowly, turned back to the younger Ryder. His eyes narrowed, nostrils flared - livid in equal parts displeasure and disdain.

“Have it your way, Ryder,” the director sneered. “I’ll inform the transport to take a later departure. Do not blame me if they do not take kindly to the delay.”

Let it never be said that Ellen Ryder raised a complete asshole. “Thank you, Director,” Scott said, bowing his head slightly.

The sentiment was ignored. “Looking forward to hearing your progress in the weeks to come. Once again, _do not_ let the Initiative down. I daresay it will reflect very badly on the rest of your career otherwise.”

And with that, the call was terminated.

Scott took a deep breath and leaned back on his chair, eyes unseeing towards the ceiling. “... SAM?”

“Yes, Scott?”

“Where the hell on Meridian can a guy get a drink?”

“Consumption of alcohol at this point in your recovery is highly discouraged.”

“SAM, please.”

“No, Scott.”

“ _SAAAAAM._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Edit: Thanks to snusnu95 for pointing out the difference between identical and fraternal twins! Don't be like me, and always check more sources than just Wikipedia. Life lesson right there.)


	2. Support System

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> News travels fast in the Tempest.

As the Tempest approached the technological marvel that was Meridian, the human Pathfinder was just finishing up a very intense conversation at its uppermost deck.

 _“... his_ behavior _will reflect on_ your _Pathfinder team. And in turn, the entire Andromeda Initiative!”_

The glowing salarian scowled and spat and hovered over the conference table, arms flailing.

_“Make sure he stays in line, Ryder. Tann out.”_

The hologram dissipated.

Sara Ryder stood rigid by the table’s console, expression unreadable.

Then, releasing what was not the first in a long series of sighs since her arrival in Heleus, she began rotating her head in wide circles to remove a crick in her neck.

“SAM,” she said mildly, and settled back into position. “You were there when Scott agreed to this. Did he do so out of his own free will?”

“Pathfinder-”

“Not expecting you to explore his decision-making process,” she added, pinching the bridge of her nose between two fingers. “Nor do I believe you’d actually divulge that information."

She took a breath, lowered her arm. "Speak from an outsider’s perspective. Just so I know that bureaucrats aren’t bullying my brother into this.”

A strange sensation in the back of her mind - well, strange to anyone else if they hadn’t spent so long experiencing it. It was faint, near negligible and easy to ignore, but Ryder was pretty sure these were SAM’s emotions, gradually taking shape over the course of their symbiosis.

Didn’t process at all like human emotions, but she liked to think she was getting the hang of reading them. This one ‘felt’... like relief.

Good of the AI to show concern for his hosts' privacy. 

“Scott’s vocal parameters showed no sign of distress, and pulse stayed steady at the time,” SAM offered. “I believe he truly wanted the appointment and accepted its terms.”

“That’s all I need to know. Thank you, SAM.”

“You are welcome, Sara.”

Ryder started for the downward incline to the lower deck on her right. There lingered the Pathfinder’s second-in-command, dressed in an outfit similar to Ryder’s and complete with matching frown.

“Are you really letting him do this?” Cora Harper inquired in a low voice. “At this point, he’s still an out-patient.”

The Pathfinder folded her arms. “Aya’s got a hospital and a lot of Initiative volunteer physicians learning angaran biology. There's treatment if he needs it.”

She paused, unable to look Cora in the eye. “Scott’s a big boy. He can make his own decisions, take care of himself. This new job...” Her speech was stilted, uncertain. “It's a good thing. Will keep him busy, while he’s on the mend. Even if he'll be operating alone. On a strange planet. Without a team to back him up.”

After a moment, Cora softened. “You’re rambling, Ryder,” she said, kindly. “I think Jaal’s down at the Cargo Bay if you want to talk to him about it. Maybe he can even sort things with his Resistance contacts. Help Scott out.”

Ryder flushed at how easy she was to read, but nevertheless flashed a grateful grin. The older woman chuckled and accompanied the Pathfinder downstairs, where she diverged to tend to the seedlings in the other room.

“APEX pinged just a minute ago.” Liam Kosta, a human promoted from the original Pathfinder team just like herself and Cora, called this out matter-of-factly from his station across the room.

He pulled away from his readings.

“What’s this about Scott? Sorry,” he added, “Ship’s layout makes it _really_ easy to listen in on your meetings.”

“He’s got a new job.” Ryder slowed down by the giant planetary holo, torn and considering. Ultimately, she gave in. Biometrics logged her into the aforementioned strike team interface - as always, personal life took a backseat when there were lives at stake.

“And listen away,” she continued absently, skimming for barest gist of the reports. “Those conversations are for the ears of the entire team, not just me.”

_“Even when Señor Reyes asks you out, Ryder?”_

Peebee’s voice only floated singsong-like from a speaker, but it wasn’t difficult to imagine the asari’s look then, brow angled conspiratorially with a shit-eating grin. Turned out Liam hadn’t been eavesdropping alone.

“Ha. If you could even call what he did to me last time a ‘da-”

Ryder stopped, then laughed. She couldn't help it.

“Did you really just modify your translator so that you can say one word in Spanish, Peebee? You know only a small percentage of _one_ species will be able to get that.”

Peebee sniggered. _“Eh, the one I wanted to get it already got it, so I’m already changing it back.”_

"Aw, Peebs." 

 _“Anyhow, Scott’s that brother of yours, right?”_ the asari continued, conversationally, as Ryder finished up in the APEX application. _“Look at him, busting out of unemployment. And here I was thinking he’s still all Sleeping Beauty from getting his brain fried.”_

 _“_ ‘Sleeping Beauty’?” Liam repeated.

“‘Brain fried’?” Ryder raised her head, horrified.

_“Let’s ignore the part where I was the most insensitive asari ever and - wow! Would you look at that! Another human reference. That’s what you get for introducing me to cartoons, Liam."_

At Ryder's incredulous glance, the man shrugged apologetically. 

_"But yeah, Ryder. Serious now.”_

Peebee did seem to have slowed down intonation, and no longer did the image in mind’s eye show her tumbling about like an excited cat. “ _Sit tight. Don't go dropping down to the cargo.”_

“Why not?”

_“Because your purpley boyfriend’s already there.”_

Right on cue, the doors in the center of the room slid open and the purpley boyfriend strode in, poncho fluttering.

 

* * *

 

 

In his wake followed Vetra, curious to what all the commotion was about. Jaal hardly noticed, and headed straight for Ryder.

“Darling one. I need to tell you something.” He took her hands in his. “It’s about your brother. The Resistance-”

“I know. He’s shipping out by tonight.” Ryder squeezed his hands in return, ignoring Liam’s polite cough in the background. She led them around the central terminal to space less cramped. “What do you make of it, Jaal? Think things will get difficult for him?”

Jaal hesitated. “The Resistance... is not Roekarr. You know this. But many angara are still uncomfortable in the presence of Milky Way species.”

The more he went on, the more miserable his demeanor. “Some, in their ignorance and fear, may be inclined to violence. And they will not know that Scott is recovering from illness.”

Ryder’s face remained totally stoic at the news.

However Jaal knew better. He spent many hours watching the Pathfinder operate on field and private company - this was one of the instances she disguised her most destructive, vulnerable emotions from the public eye.

The privilege that he understood the truth was overshadowed by shared despair - Ryder’s hands trembled in his.

“Well,” she said.

“We do have some Initiative people on Aya,” Liam voiced, ever the pragmatist. “Set up a bodyguard rotation? Secretly, though - Scott doesn’t have to know he’s being watched if he’s got that infamous Ryder pride in him.”

Ryder pulled back, folding her arms once again as if hugging herself - a defensive mechanism. “He’s be the only Initiative species with regular access into Resistance Headquarters and training grounds.” Her voice was stained. “That solution’s only practical half the time.”

“Uh. Then Jaal! Don't you have a couple of buddies that can look out for the guy?”

“Self-defense gear might come in handy.” Cora stepped back out, thoughtfully wielding a potted plant in one hand and a watering can in the other. “Don’t know if pepper spray would be effective on angara. Maybe we can synthesize a special batch.”

 _“Yeah, out of_ candy. _Oh! Want me to lend him POC?”_ Peebee chirped in a burst of inspiration. “ _No wait, not my baby. I take that back. Uh, I can construct another VI to follow him around. It’ll make the bozos think twice before messing him up!”_

“No one is going to mess Scott up. He’ll be fine, Ryder.” Vetra approached in a casual strut, voice soothing and placing a well-filed talon on the human’s shoulder. “He’s guest. They won’t let anything happen to him.”

Meanwhile, the turian took advantage of the fact her height lifted her face well out of the small woman’s line of vision. She threw Jaal threatening glares - he’d better comfort his girlfriend before she ended up smacking him.

Fortunately, the angara was way ahead of her. It took some time and mental gymnastics to sort out the logistics, but it _was_ very feasible. And it was something he set his heart on the moment he saw, in her eyes, just how much this meant to Ryder.

“I have an idea,” he said.

The room silenced and all attention fell to him. Struck him as odd, briefly - it had been a while since he laid out plans to an assembly of colleagues, and before then it was just to his own species.

Jaal shook out of it. Clasping his hands behind his back, he delivered, simply, the best he could come up with to put Ryder’s mind at ease.

“I’ll accompany Scott to Aya,” he announced in his deep, clear voice. “And make sure his transition will be as painless as possible. It is about time I saw to some of my responsibilities with a physical presence as well,” he added, in case anyone argued for better reasons.

Unexpectedly, there was no argument. For a good ten seconds all he got was stunned silence.

Then, like the popping of a bubble, a cacophony started - not dismissing the idea, or against, but soundboarding to build upon the base presented.

“In other words, a chaperone,” Liam concluded. “So much for secrecy. I’ll still drop a line at the governor’s office - not like you can monitor the guy 24/7.”

The angara frowned at the connotation. “It’s not… monitoring Scott. Rather making sure everyone else is on their best behavior. I’ve been looking forward to getting to know the family of my Darling one; I _will not_ stand for outliers providing a negative representation of my species.”

“Speaking of monitoring,” Cora remarked, “this means you’re leaving the Tempest. Didn’t you join to make sure the Pathfinder team doesn’t abuse the position? Mighty lenient of you to allow us free reign, Jaal.”

There was no severity in her words - she sprinkled water to the new sprouts in hand, enough at ease to resume gardening while everyone chatted away. The angara knew this, and his frown vanished as if she mentioned something highly amusing.

“It’s clear that this team is as driven against the kett as we are. Either that, or I’ve been sorely mistaken,” he said lightly. “And I’ll be back soon enough. Doubtful even Liam can get into anything too illegal in two weeks.”

“Oy.” The man chuckled and leaned against the pillar by his terminal. “But back to what you said. Getting to know family, eh? This is good!”

He rubbed his hands gleefully. “So you and Ryder-two got some quality time to gossip. Make sure to ask for Sara’s embarrassing childhood photos. No offense, Pathfinder.”

 _“Ja-al! If you’re going to Aya, I need you to visit the Remnant museum!”_ Peebee cried. “ _There’s something that I’ve been_ dying _to check out, but noooo, Ryder’s been putting off going to that system for ages-”_

 _“Hasn’t been any reason to, ‘til now.”_ Another easygoing voice from the speaker. It turned out Gil had been listening in too.

“ _Pah, if you’re not gonna be on my side, get back to primping up the Nomad, Poker-boy.”_

 _“Poker-_ man,"Gil corrected.

“ _Pokemon?”_

An innocent pause.

 _“Heh, walked right into that one, didn’t you._ ” Everyone could just _hear_ her smirking.

“ _I am confiscating your cartoons, you lunatic.”_

“Send details of what exactly to investigate, Peebee,” Jaal instructed, making a mental note to, at his earliest convenience, research what in Heleus they were talking about this time. “I’ll see what I can do.”

_“Yay! Thanks Jaal.”_

Vetra hummed, tapping on Ryder's shoulder as she contemplated . “Should set aside some goods for Scott, now that I think about it. Can’t have the guy starving to death in flavortown.”

Jaal recalled his status as one of the only two Tempest crew members banned from dinner duty (a position he shared with Suvi, their chief science officer). There seemed a general consensus against angara flavors when it came to Milky Way species. 

“Indeed,” Jaal agreed hastily. “His tastebuds won’t last long with local ingredients.”

“I know some sellers on Aya that'll supply produce to Initiative visitors. I’ll get them to give you discounts,” Vetra assured.

“Thank you, Vetra.”

“No problem.” The turian, realizing she had been tapping away, stilled her hold on Ryder’s shoulder. Her smooth-talking drawl went up a note of two in encouragement. ”Hear that, Pathfinder? Jaal’s got it covered.”

 _The Pathfinder_. Grateful to have the support his friends garnered so far, Jaal nervously turned to the person whose opinion on the venture mattered to him most.

An electric shock went through him - a honest-to-goodness angaran reflex - when his eyes had locked onto those of his most Darling one. Her eyes shone, despite the still unreadable expression on her young, weary, beautiful features - as if she was afraid something inside would betray her.

But her voice told all, sounding in wonder and disbelief, and cracking a bit with emotion.

“You've never even met him, but you would... you'd really do all that?”

Jaal blinked, enraptured, and returned that gaze with everything in his being.

“Darling one, I would do _anything_ for your peace of mind.”

And when Sara smiled at him, Jaal knew he had never been more in love than in this very moment.

He also ignored Gil’s hysterical laughter, the retching noises from Liam and Peebee, and how Vetra and Cora rolled their eyes as they moved on to more pressing businesses.

“Alright, alright, cut it out. You’re making me sick.”

An elderly krogan marched in from the translucent pathway to the bridge.

“More importantly - Ryder, get your ass down to the Med Bay. Think the doc’s received some sort of bad news. She’s throwing a fit.”

To Jaal’s disappointment, Ryder actually broke eye-contact, wheeling toward the krogan with instinctive alarm. Yet something occurred to her, and she calmed.

“The Carlyle-T’Perro Act,” Ryder mused, shaking her head mysteriously. “She must’ve gotten the news. Thanks Drack. I’m on it.”

Drack grunted. “Good to know.”

That was not the end of it. The krogan turned to Jaal, eyes narrowed into slits that effectively made their target increasingly nervous.

“Got the gist of what you’ll be doing on my way over,” the battered veteran grumbled. “Got a good head on your shoulders, kid. Just... tone down the googoo eyes when I’m around, would you? Makes me lose my appetite.”

“Apologies, Drack,” Jaal replied, not particularly sorry at all.

The krogan shot him a look that he knew just exactly what he was thinking. Even so, he simply gave the pair a curt nod, and sauntered off to the bridge to almost certainly tell Suvi off from yesterday’s cooking experiment.

Jaal sighed. Well. The most effective mood killer turned out to be a krogan. Something to keep in mind in future dates.

But he steeled himself and remained optimistic. At long last, the opportunity to meet his Darling one’s brother. To be properly introduced and discover his personality. Scott Ryder, who grew right alongside the most incredible person he had ever met.

He hoped to make a good first impression.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's a little early, but I blame Peebee for being an absolute delight. 
> 
> Also, is the new patch (1.06) any good? I've been wondering whether to go for a second run of MEA.

**Author's Note:**

> Desperate to know where your Ryder twin disappeared off to post-game, my brain delivered this monstrosity of a fanfic concept. Bioware, please. Let me know where my sibling went. I'm so worried. 
> 
> Hoping to update this fic once a week until completion! Reviews are much appreciated and will give me the will to keep on churning out words. 
> 
> Heads up - there may be some canon divergence here and there. Hope you don't mind. Also, apologies for any typos or mistakes still lingering about. English is actually not my first language. Please feel free to send critiques or comments so I can remedy those asap!


End file.
